


There are Other Worlds Than These.

by penniless1



Category: Alice in Wonderland (Movies - Burton), Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Soul Eater
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 16:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9451103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penniless1/pseuds/penniless1
Summary: I took the dice and rolled them twice.I told her, "Destination, Heaven."But when we arrived,Only I'd survived,And God said, "Now we're even."What, exactly, is a poltergeist?  What makes it tick?  Why the obsession?  Can it ever be redeemed?Maybe; just not wherever it is right now.  Someplace and somewhen else though?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Soul Eater x Beetlejuice x AiW2010 conflagration. As in dumpster fire. It might even get worse.
> 
> You've been warned.

Soul loved Europe, honest to God, loved, _loved_ being in Germany and visiting his sweet _Oma_ , but if he had to spend another day waiting outside the nondescript industrial building as Maka conducted one more motherlovin' meeting; wait even one more hour for his meister's sweet, strong, battle-marked thighs to finally straddle his motorcycle, he was going to fucking well start smoking again.

Fuck, he needed caffeine. And his e-cigarette. And a nap. Kid and Maka had spent weeks in Germany interviewing weapons and meisters, struggling to find someone to replace Justin Law, Tsar Pushka and Feodor.

Fuck Asura. Fuck the Black Blood.

"Shit, take the fucking smoke or push your sad sack face into a wall already, ya orange riding poppet," a gravelly, harsh voice snapped, bursting Soul's comfortable bubble of moroseness.

In his current mood, Soul "Eater" Evans may have responded to this entreaty with a fist full of blades. However, the e-cigarette was new-ish and full and covered in black and white stripes. Soul had been sitting next to his orange bike, back against the large, bland concrete wall for hours. Somehow he'd remained unobtrusive despite his black biker boots, black suit with narrow, white pinstripes and maroon dress shirt. The fact that similar boots now stood in front of him made him blink rapidly, his scarlet eyes wondering if he was tripping into a place in his mind that had been markedly absent for over a year.

Fortunately, he could never see himself wearing a white suit unless under serious, book-threatened duress.

"Thanks," Soul murmured, taking the proffered smoke from the slightly grimy hand waving it under his nose. He raised his head to look at his benefactor and had to blink again as he met acid-green eyes and a head of light blond hair. A chain-mail whip forming the arm attaching the dirty hand to a white shoulder.

The suit had thin black pinstripes. Huh. Still no.

"Uh?" he started dumbly. He flicked his eyes left to see the hand snap back to the cuff. The accent rang in his ears. "Eastern Europe branch?"

"Ya, Romania" the stranger grinned and Soul now felt downright marvellous about his teeth given that they weren't yellow like this weapon's viper-like fangs. "Chainmail Whip, Betelgeuse, at your service. Kishin exorcist extraordinaire, witch exterminator without compare and the whip with the most kink anywhere. Why the fuck are you so tall, goddamit?"

Soul snorted as he finished standing up, towering almost a foot over the other weapon. He always got this comment two seconds before he slouched into comfort again.

"Comes with the territory for me. Soul Eater, Death Scythe, North America branch. That your ride?"

Soul used his chin to point to a mint-green motorcycle parked across the street.

"Looks like a BK? 350 maybe? Think my grandfather had one."

He watched with a smirk as Betelgeuse loosed a feral grin of pride.

"Mmmyup, she's my second babes...or bitch, depending on whatever's fucked on her after a mission. Done some good work on her, she's more like a BK900 now. Late-model Indian Chief with tallboy?"

Soul nodded, trying and failing to contain his own bladed grin. "Second meister. Always wants to be worked over and never satisfied with a short ride."

Betelgeuse cackled as the fingers of his left hand finally emerged from his suit pocket with another, longer e-cig, blood red like his fingertips. His hands were thick and calloused, marked by machine oil, grease, strength and regular hard labour. The two weapons leaned against the wall and started smoking in earnest, idly watching as a brown suited imp of a human with ludicrous red curls rolled his blue motorcycle - a '73 Triumph - next to the green BK350 and kicked both down savagely. Brown-suit flashed the bird to the traffic as he crossed the street and, though he was barely taller than Black Star, his brown, unlaced combat boots stomped loudly on the pavement as he trudged along, puffing on a long stemmed pipe straight out of "The Hobbit."

"Fook ye, Betelgeuse, ye fat-twatted cunt! Tried to get me 'n' Alice lost on purpose!"

Not-so-Gandalf-like swearing continued to spew from the newcomer as Betelgeuse snorted and leered. Amusement was clearly written all over his face right up to the point that five and a half feet of sword slid into the wall between the whip and the scythe.

"Fookin' bite me 'n' gimme yer vape liquid. 'M low," the sword grumbled as he morphed into a petulant middle-aged man against the wall. His eyebrows were like small, mutant Maltese puppies on his face, almost snarling even when their owner sucked on his refreshed addiction-aid.

"Tarrant Hightopp, Western European branch," the sword finally offered as introduction, turning to address Soul while somehow mashing Betelgeuse's foot in the process. "You're Miss Albarn's weapon, yes?"

Soul exhaled and nodded, side-eyeing the smaller weapons pointedly. "You two are Alice Kingsleigh's and Lydia Deetz's weapons, right? You're bigger than you look."

"That's what she always says," Betelgeuse and Tarrant began, both grinning in fairly disturbing ways until a large rumble ripped through the air, making speech impossible.

A gunmetal blue Kawasaki Ninja with a large black star emblazoned on each side pulled up in front of the men, followed by an all-black Ducati 888 with a white seat. The riders were all female - a buxom, black-haired Asian on the Ninja and two gorgeous, blonde, blue-eyed cowgirls on the Ducati.

"Ah yes, this is the shit," Soul sighed as he tossed the borrowed e-cig back to Betelgeuse and made to straddle his machine. "Took you long enough!"

"Not our fault our meisters are so picky," Tsubaki tossed back idly as she sat up and stretched. Her eyes were fixed on the window some four stories overhead. "We'll get going in about a minute."

"Finally! Then Kid can take us to the zoo again to see the giraffes!" Patty squealed, her voice cutting through the sound of shattering glass that the weapons negligently ignored until Black Star landed amongst them, leaving a 3-inch dent of cracked concrete that used to be sidewalk.

"Yo, God of War in the house!" the ninja meister chortled as he scrambled up behind Tsubaki. "Oi, Soul, you shoulda told Maka to wear shorts today."

"Fuckin' hell," Soul growled, helpless to stop his reaction as he looked up and - yup, plain yellow panties were just about 12 feet above him. Standing, Soul did not so much catch Maka as he did snatch her from the air, even as Kid landed on the sidewalk next to the dent that Black Star made, successfully leaving a mini-crater under his onyx Oxfords. Behind him, two female figures landed almost exactly where the European weapons had been standing seconds before, suitably at ease with the whole affair.

"Ladies, allow me to introduce the last Death Scythe, Maka's weapon partner, Soul 'Eater' Evans. Soul, meet Alice Kingsleigh and Lydia Deetz, candidates for the European branch head positions," Kid uttered in his polished monotone as he adjusted his cuffs and smoothed his distinctive black suit. Soul took the time to nod briefly at the women while Maka kicked a long leg over his motorbike.

Lydia Deetz was a tiny, shapely older teen with long black hair that curled like a mass of snakes. Her curves were audaciously presented in a red, lacy skater dress with long, flared sleeves that came down to her fingertips. Alice Kingsleigh was her direct opposite - almost as tall as Tsubaki, her hair and eyes could have led people in the DWMA to confuse her for one of the Thompson sisters except she looked at least a decade older. She was dressed simply in a hard blue jeans and a frilly white blouse. Both women, however, wore black combat boots that easily rivalled Maka's pair. No wonder they'd gotten to second base.

"Yeah, I like them a lot too," Maka whispered in Soul's ear, making him shiver under her warm breath. God, he'd gotten the smoke he needed, now he needed a fight and a fuck to turn this trip from the most boring chore ever to the best vacation ever. Maka in a light dress shirt, no tights and a damnably short, pleated grey skirt wiggling her heat into his ass guaranteed that she shared his sentiments.

"Please tell me I get to kill that kishin now, for God's sake," Alice grumbled as Tarrant and Betelgeuse pulled their bikes up next to their meisters. Lydia laughed, a tinkling sound like a small bell as Betelgeuse's hand whipped out to unceremoniously pick her up and dump her behind him on his East German relic. Tarrant slid back on the Triumph to let Alice take her usual place in front.

"Specifically for my sake, Misses Kingsleigh and Deetz," Kid intoned as he slid onto the Ducati, Liz and Patty already in their holsters. "Time for a quick practical assessment exercise. That kishin isn't far and I left an isosceles triangle when I folded the paper in bathroom #7."


	2. Chapter 2

Soul was impressed. The kishin had been dispatched so swiftly by the European candidates that his bike engine hadn't even had time to cool completely. Maka's fingers on his shoulder had gone from using him as an antenna to simply trailing lazy circles over the suit.

He knew what this suit did for his meister; it was the only way she'd been able to convince him to wear it. Shit, now he was having a hard time concentrating and keeping his pants on.

"Soon," Maka crooned into his ear, making him growl lowly in his throat. They hadn't had contact for days, always haring off to cities all over the continent to do this interview or that assessment. He already knew how they got after extended periods without physical fulfilment. God, Maka could get so <em>rough</em> \- and that thought guaranteed that he would not be able to get off his bike for another 20 minutes at least.

Kid would probably be getting a very detailed bill on hotel damages tomorrow morning.

Soul shook the cobwebs of lust out of his head when Maka started tapping his shoulder urgently. Lydia had returned with the kishin soul in her cupped palms, cooing to it as it writhed and pulsed. Betelgeuse trailed behind her in a distinctly foul mood, trails of saliva streaking his muddy face. The kishin had gone to ground in one of the few marshes around Berlin, apparently.

"Someone wanna explain to me again why I don't getta snack on that?" Betelgeuse snarked as he used the back of his right hand to scrub at the crud around his mouth. Soul's keen ears noted that, despite the accent, Betelgeuse's English was almost native level, as if he'd spent some formative years on the worst streets in New York.

"Lairds alive, I'm agreeing with the whelp," Tarrant grumbled, stopping out of the underbrush with Alice in tow. He held a lavender scarf to his mouth with his left hand, but it was noticeably damp.

Soul bit his lip to keep his snigger to a minimum, glancing at Black Star who had no such compunction towards social tact. Apparently, Alice's sense of direction was limited to something akin to "This Way to Danger." After the fight, with the danger dispatched, Alice had been quite literally stuck until Tarrant had regained his form and dragged her back to the others.

"Kid, the coven says they'll be here in five!" Liz yelled from a few yards away, her manicured hands slipping a pink-clad iPhone into her back pocket as she snagged Patty from whatever mess she'd been making with a mud puddle, a frog and Kid's formerly clean handkerchief.

"And that is why you cannot dine, gentlemen," Kid warned in clipped tones, studiously avoiding any muck as Lydia poured the soul into the godling's hand. Soul frowned slightly. Up to now, he hadn't heard Lydia actually speak - not even to roar Betelgeuse's name or weapon forms. The scythe watched curiously as the Eastern European meister nodded and stepped backwards.

"Mute, not deaf," Maka confirmed quietly. "Betelgeuse didn't explain much in the interview, but he seems to be able to speak enough for both of them, when he wants."

Soul grunted in response, his eyes switching to a flicker of light that steadily approached the group from the city to the north. The light became many lights and soon a nerve-wracking number of witches were descending in front of them, led by a crone that Soul was pretty sure could give Maba a run for her money in the age department.

"Juno," Kid murmured for his subordinates' benefit as the coven approached, at least twenty strong. "She hasn't wreaked havoc in ages, but she's suspected to be even stronger than the Gorgon sisters. Watch your manners."

The crone was within earshot by this time. She was smoking a rancid-smelling cigarette in a long filter, which did nothing to reduce the veil of smoke wreathed around her throat. She did not smile or blink or even sneeze as she ashed her smoke, which somehow seemed to be a signal for her coven to stop all movement.

"Kid," Juno drawled, her voice like Liz's nails being drawn down a chalkboard. "See you've done some cleaning up. I'll take that garbage from you."

Kid inclined his head politely and stepped forward, meeting Juno halfway. Black Star, who had been standing next to the Death God, grumbled and reached for Tsubaki's hand, while Liz made sure to snap her gum as loudly as possible and Patty pouted. Soul felt Maka shift slightly; her hands had become iron claws on his back even as his legs trembled, his body strung tight to contain the urge to change to his weapon form.

"I'd thank you," Juno muttered as she took the kishin egg, "but your brother's the one who gave me a new, unwanted necklace when he slit my throat."

"I will simply accept acknowledgement that I am most certainly not my brother, then," Kid replied. Soul was amazed at the amount of willpower it must have taken for Kid not to glance at the night sky; to search even momentarily for the obscured satellite. He and Maka did so as one.

Juno only hummed in response to Kid as she slipped the soul into a strange bag with ornate embroidery before slapping it once; it vanished with a howl, most likely to the Witches' Realm. The crone took a deep drag off her cigarette and turned to leave before stopping sharply and glaring at the European teams.

Betelgeuse, who was rummaging in his pockets for his e-cig, almost made a move at the crone, eyes burning hideously yellow-green as Lydia held him back by his elbow and met Juno's stare with a fierce look from her deep-brown eyes. After a few heartbeats, the crone's steely-grey eyes cut over to Tarrant, who had been sipping what smelled like Darjeeling tea from a Thermos that Alice had pulled from a saddlebag on their motorcycle. Both of them returned the piercing look with marked hostility; Tarrant's lavender pupils deepened ominously, almost black with rage, while Alice's eyes turned into blue granite.

Then her eyes were on him. Soul hissed as he felt icy, probing fingers pluck at his head; somewhere deep, somewhere long hidden from light. Maka snorted and cut a fiery glance at the crone; a reinforced Soul Protect soon encompassed them both.

"What a strange time to be alive," Juno cackled as she withdrew quickly, walking backwards with deceptive grace given her obvious age. "Gods and dragons, fairies and witches all joining hands to stop utter Madness."

The crone shook her head wearily, the smoke billowing unnaturally larger as she trundled back to her coven.

"It's enough to make an old woman wish herself on the list just to avoid change."

Soul found himself holding his breath as the women disappeared in an unholy blink. Betelgeuse spat a revoltingly large loogie on the ground the crone had traversed as Kid gave the silent command to return to Berlin.

"Please tell me where we can find a good bar on the way in," Black Star groused as Tsubaki started the Kawasaki. He sounded hoarse and dry and as miserable as Soul suddenly felt. "I think I want to forget meeting that one."

**Author's Note:**

> No. No, I don't know what I've created. I just know that I haven't written in years and the whole drought's driven me round the twist.


End file.
